


Learning Curves

by datafailure



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Alien Cultural Differences, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Kinda, M/M, No beta we die like Jem'Hadar, Slow Burn, also julian is DUMB, they're both lovesick idiots but they don't want to tell each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-17 05:47:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 15,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28719864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/datafailure/pseuds/datafailure
Summary: A discussion of Cardassian technology leads to Julian and Garak expanding their cultural exchange.(This started as a one-off but I had a bunch of ideas and now I'm really invested in this plot)
Relationships: Julian Bashir/Elim Garak
Comments: 129
Kudos: 115





	1. No Wheels

**Author's Note:**

> I was rather inspired by this one prompt post I saw online, and decided to do a fic of Julian introducing Garak to various human activities. Mario Kart will be involved.

“You’re kidding me! No wheels?”

Julian was dumbfounded, his drink sitting half-empty on the table. It was a Thursday night on Deep Space 9 being spent, as usual, sat next to a tuxedoed Cardassian in Quark’s. They should have already been allowed into their holosuite, but Quark - as Quark was wont to do - had overbooked the holosuites, and so they were waiting for their new, delayed time slot to arrive. Quark, ever the benevolent host, had given them a free round of drinks in lieu of a partial refund. Julian was suspicious of his synthale - he knew that if there was nothing wrong with it, Quark would never have given it for free. He drank it anyway.

“No, my dear. We Cardassians have always been a resourceful species, and so we used other forms of transport.” Garak sipped his kanar. “You must remember that the habitable area of Cardassia is much less than on your home planet, especially in the times of pre-warp technology. We had little need for long-range transport.” He shot a thinly-veiled death glare at Quark, who promptly disappeared behind the bar.

“But the.. How did you even get to that level of technology without inventing  _ wheels _ ? They were literally the start of technology for our species - we could still be doddering around in caves if it wasn’t for them.” He watched Garak’s mouth quirk slightly - no doubt he was thinking of how he’d look as a caveman. “Bicycles, cars, planes - how the hell did you do any tech without that as a starting point?”

“My dear, I don’t even know what that is. Evidently, there is no direct Kardasi translation for that first word. Unless it’s really called a dual revolution vehicle?”

“It’s a- there’s two wheels, and a chain, and a pedal that you work with your feet, and you sort of..” Julian snorted and stood up, dragging Garak up by the hand. “It’s difficult to explain. Come on, forget Bond - I’m taking you for a bike ride!”

-

After some friendly threats from Garak and the removal of a very drunk Klingon from Holosuite 4, the pair were finally stood inside the holosuite.

“Computer, give me a large forest clearing with some hills. Earth, summertime, late afternoon.” The computer bleeped and produced a grassy plain surrounded by seemingly endless forest. There were some clovers and daisies dotted about the grass, and the sun was about half an hour from setting, to accommodate Garak's photosensitivity. He took a deep breath in and beamed at the surroundings. Garak looked positively enamoured.

“Is Earth really this.. lush?”

“Well, a lot of it is quite built up now, but most of the northern hemisphere used to look like this, yes. A lot of deciduous forest, oak trees and such. In fact, I learned to ride a bike in a place much like this. Computer, two adult bicycles. One with stabilisers.” As the bicycles appeared, Garak looked at them with confusion.

“I suppose it is a dual revolution vehicle. Your ancestors got about on those?”

“And enjoyed it, too. It’s a very efficient form of exercise.” Julian began to adjust the seat heights. “On Earth, there’s a huge cycling competition every year - the Tour de France. It’s been going for centuries, although it gets a lot less media coverage these days.”

“Ah, you humans do love your competitive sports, don’t you?” Upon being handed the bike, Garak looked at it with apprehension.

“We just love competitions. Everyone wants to be the best at something, and so there’s competitions for everything. It’s how the Guinness World Records came about - there are some  _ very _ strange ones in there.” Noticing Garak’s face, Julian laughed. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to go off without you. Just going to show you how it’s done.”

With that, he hopped on the bike and began to pedal, cycling in a rough loop round the clearing before returning to Garak and dismounting. He was relieved to find his Cardassian friend looked slightly less confused.

“I see, Doctor. This seems like it will be fairly easy,” he said.

“Ah, but it’s not so easy as it looks, at least until you learn. You have to get a good rhythm going or you’ll fall. That’s why I put stabilisers on your one - it’s normal for children to use them when they are learning to ride.” 

Garak’s face was a picture of contempt. “Children! Doctor, surely you don’t think my level of coordination is comparable to a child - especially your clumsy Terran ones! Computer, remove stabilisers,” he huffed. The small wheels disappeared.

“Suit yourself, but you’re gonna regret it..” His words dropped off as he watched Garak climb unceremoniously onto the bike and push off, before almost immediately falling onto the ground.

“Ouch!”

Julian couldn’t stop himself from laughing at the sight - Garak, normally so put together and placid, sprawled on the floor with grass stains on his dress shirt. He was almost  _ pouting. _

“What did I just tell you?” Helping him up, Julian looked at his face and started laughing again. “You have dirt on your face!” Garak’s lips unpursed as he let out a snort. “Here, get back on and I’ll give you a push off.”

-

Letting go of Garak’s back for the last time, Julian watched as the Cardassian pedaled furiously along the grassy bank. He whooped and wolf-whistled as he got into the rhythm of it, before grabbing his bike and joining him.

“This is the first time you haven’t fallen down!” Julian said, catching up to Garak, who did not look at him, being too busy concentrating on keeping balance.

“Yes, Doctor, I- I think I have the hang of it now. I would have learned faster had I not been slightly inebriated, I think.” His tone wavered as he lost concentration and wobbled slightly.

“I think, Garak, that’s the first time you’ve ever admitted being drunk to me,” Julian replied, pulling ahead of him for a second.

“My dear, if I was not drunk I can promise you I would not be in this holosuite with you, riding your.. What are they called again?”

“Bikes.” They had reached the edge of a fairly steep decline, and Julian turned his head to warn the tailor of the danger ahead. It was too late; Garak had already tipped his front wheel over the edge of the hill and was picking up speed rapidly.

“Garak, stop pedaling!” he yelled, watching him speed down the hill. “Hold the handlebars straight and press the brake!” 

Garak turned his head towards Julian - a deadly mistake. “What- ahh!” The movement of his head twisted the handle to the side, and he tumbled down to the foot of the hill, where he lay in a heap.

Julian raced down towards him - a little too fast - and ended up skidding as well. He finally managed to control the bike and stopped right next to his friend, who had landed rather awkwardly on his foot.

“Garak, are you alright?” The look that the Cardassian gave him was the same one that he gave during their lunchtime conversations - amusement hidden behind annoyance.

“My dear Doctor, it appears that I have - that I have been-” His words broke off into giggles. “Mind helping me get out from under this dreadful machine?”

“Of course. Computer, remove bicycles,” Julian managed before bursting into laughter himself.

Freed from his metal prison, Garak stretched out on the warm grass. Julian joined him and watched the sun set over the trees.

-

“What are you still smiling about?” Garak’s eyelids had begun to droop.  _ He’s like a lizard basking in the sun _ , Julian thought.

“What are you talking abou- oh,” he replied as he touched his face to find that he was, in fact, still grinning like an idiot. “I forgot I was.”

“Why Doctor, I think you’re considerably more drunk than I am- ow!” Garak had tried to put some weight on his injured foot; he hissed and recoiled in pain.

“Right, that’s it. I’m taking you to the Infirmary.” Julian helped him up. “Computer, end program.”

“Oh, but I was so enjoying the lovely view..” Garak complained as he hobbled towards the holosuite exit.  _ He’s got to be drunk if he’s letting me take him to the Infirmary.. _

“We can always come back another time, if you’d like to try again?” Julian lifted Garak’s arm around his shoulder.

“Maybe, although I think it would be wise to create a setting with less extreme hills next time.” They had arrived at the Infirmary and Julian had managed to sit Garak on the bed, before reaching for his medical tricorder.

“You’ve sprained your ankle, nothing serious. I can give you something for the pain, but try not to put too much weight on it for the next couple of days, okay?”

“That would be most appreciated, Doctor.” A hypospray quickly injected a light anaesthetic into his neck, and he sighed in relief. “I wonder - what other human activities would you have me try? Perhaps something less.. Precarious?”

Julian laughed. “Oh, I have just the thing - and we can do it while you’re recovering!” Putting his hypospray back in his medkit, he turned and looked at his friend. “Meet me in the Replimat on Saturday - I have the afternoon off, and this could take a while depending on how good you are at it.”

Garak stood, less gingerly now. “That sounds wonderful, my dear. I will meet you at 1300 hours for this... surprise activity. I must admit, you have piqued my curiosity.”

Julian grinned as Garak left, before heading home to his own quarters, suit disheveled and covered in green stains.


	2. The Homewrecker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A seemingly innocent board game nearly results in a murder in the Replimat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this chapter denotes the universal Monopoly experience. Enjoy.

When Saturday afternoon arrived, Julian clocked out of the Infirmary and headed back to his quarters. He opened the overstuffed cupboard that was filled with various paraphernalia - mostly unwanted gifts (including a very… decorative pot he had received from one of the Ambassadors after the unfortunate experience involving the fire), PADDs full of photos, and of course his beloved Kukalaka - and retrieved from his collection of old Earth board games a narrow, rectangular box: the oldest in his collection.

He had been collecting similar games for most of his life - the interest began during his Academy years, when a rather irritating Bolian cadet had introduced him to Monopoly. Julian looked forward to showing it to Garak - the game had always had a reputation for causing arguments. The Bolian in question had ended up monopolising the entire board, bankrupting him, and the argument that ensued had nearly come to blows. It was then that Julian had really got into the game, trying to improve his knowledge in hopes of defeating him in a rematch. He smirked at the memory of the smug satisfaction he felt when he bought out Mayfair, enraging the Bolian to the point he accused him of cheating. Yes, this game would ensure a good argument with his Cardassian friend.

Having acquired the game, he shoved the cupboard door shut - _damn Cardassian-built station, I’ll have to get Miles to reinforce the locking mechanism_ \- and made his way to the Replimat, where Garak was waiting at their usual table. His face showed no sign of interest yet, but Julian knew better than to expect that.

“Good afternoon, Doctor! And what have you brought me, I wonder?” Julian sat down opposite him and presented the box to him. Luckily for them, the lunch rush had passed and the Replimat was considerably less crowded.

“Hello, Garak. I trust your foot is feeling better?" After a nod and a slightly embarrassed look, he continued. "This is an old Earth game called Monopoly. Before you get all haughty with me -” and he could just imagine Garak saying _well, my dear Doctor, it’s not exactly kotra, is it?_ with a look of disdain - “this game requires cunning and premeditation, as well as ruthlessness.”

Garak raised a ridged brow. “I must say, it sounds a lot more interesting than the rather juvenile box illustration would give on. Who is this character on the box - does he play a significant part in the game?”

“Well, no. I suppose he’s a sort of mascot for the game.”

“I see. So, what are the rules?” Julian was busy setting up the board, and Garak looked on in interest at the chance cards being set on the table.

“The basic point of the game is to get as much money and assets as possible. You start with equal amounts of money and move your counter - here, you choose first - around the board by rolling the dice, and you buy property.” Julian gestured towards the counters; Garak picked up the little silver boot, and seemed happy with his choice. Julian chose the dog.

“So far, this sounds fairly simple. You said that players must be ruthless?”

“Ah, yes, well, this is where the fun starts. Once you own a property, you put one of these little houses on the corresponding square. If another player lands on that square then they have to pay you a fee out of their money. You can add up to four houses to increase the fee, and then you can add a hotel. But it really depends on how many players, how long the game is, and your style of play.”

Garak looked puzzled. “I fail to see where cunning comes into this.”

“You’ll see once we start playing - this game has been known to tear families apart,” Julian replied. He continued with a basic rundown of the rules, while he was cackling maniacally on the inside. _This will be chaos._

-

45 minutes later, and the game had become very heated. Garak had landed on the Go To Jail square for the third time, and was positively seething.

“But Doctor, I have done nothing wrong! Why should I be incarcerated?” Julian was too busy laughing to respond. “I promise you, this is no laughing matter! In fact, you should be the one going to jail. The audacity, to place a hotel on what was already an expensive property! Why, you’ve run me dry, Doctor, and that is the real crime - that could not _possibly_ be a legal move.”

“It’s not my fault you’ve been too preoccupied with trying to cover as much of the board as possible rather than investing in the right property! Don’t blame me for your lack of skill!” Garak nearly growled, slamming his boot into the jail square. “Don’t worry, I’ll be around to visit you soon. Ah, ah, ah-” he swiftly stopped the tailor’s hand from reaching into the pile of banknotes- “you can’t collect your 200 if you’re going to jail, or did you not listen when I explained the rules to you?” Garak’s nostrils flared, and he was about to begin some scathing string of insults, when the station’s resident gaudily-dressed Ferengi walked up to them.

“I heard investment. What are you two doing?”

Garak groaned, while Julian grinned maliciously. This would make an interesting addition to the game.

“We’re playing an old Earth game, Quark. If you’re interested in joining in, you’ll have to read the rule book. I imagine it will be fairly simple concepts to you.” And after a quick scan of the book, Quark sat at the table and grabbed a wad of cash before eyeing up the counters and, after some deliberation, choosing the iron.

“What’s this thing?”

“Do Ferengi not iron their clothes?”

“Well, that’s a job for a _female._ Male Ferengi do not reduce themselves to such tasks.”

“Doctor, I really don’t think-” Garak was shushed by Julian, who was trying desperately not to laugh at the Cardassian’s face.

“You’re still in jail. You don’t get to argue.”

“Fine,” Garak huffed.

-

Despite Quark’s late start, he soon ended up dominating the board, bankrupting Julian in the process. _Beat at my own game by a Ferengi_. Garak, on the other hand, was still putting up a valiant fight with the little money he had left and Julian could only watch as the two fought. His eyes moved between them as they argued like he was watching a tennis match.

“Ha! _You_ landed on _my_ property! I have 3 houses on it, that means you need to give me 450… uh… what is the currency of this game called, Doctor?”

“Uh… good question. There is no official name for the ingame currency.” Garak was evidently not pleased with this answer.

“Oh, whatever, just give me 450 of it, Quark!” The Ferengi snarled as he begrudgingly handed the money over. Garak counted the notes, only to find out..

“You’ve been cheating!” The Cardassian was incensed. “That’s why I’m losing, it’s not because of my lack of proficiency, you are withholding fees from me! I demand to be reimbursed immediately.”

“I was entitled to take commission from those fees!”

“Oh, really? Would you care to show me where in the rules it says that, Ferengi?” Upon Quark’s silence, he continued. “Trust you to cheat at anything involving money! Whose idea was it to let you play anyway, you thieving little vole?”

Garak's face was positively murderous. He stood and banged the table, scattering chance cards and little plastic houses everywhere. Quark, angered now, pulled himself up to his full height, but was still head and shoulders below Garak. He took one look at the snarling Cardassian, gave up, and ran back towards his bar. Still raging, Garak sat back down stiffly and looked across at Julian, who was barely keeping a straight face.

“I fail to see what is so funny, Doctor.” 

That was it. 

Julian’s face split open into a pealing laugh; his body bent into itself. He thwacked his head on the table, causing more of the plastic houses to jump from the table and fall on his head. One more look at Garak’s face and he was clapping like a seal, wheezing as tears fell from his eyes. 

“I’m sorry- it’s just that I-” he wiped a tear from his cheek- “I’ve never seen anyone get so angry over Monopoly in my _life_!” Garak’s fury broke into mad snickering, and no words were spoken for a good five minutes as they laughed, surrounded by discarded game pieces.

After they had calmed down, Garak helped Julian put the pieces away - thankfully none had been damaged or lost in the fray - and as Julian fitted the lid on the box, Garak rested a hand lightly on his shoulder.

“My dear Doctor, I now understand what you meant about this game tearing families apart. While the game was… most enjoyable, I suggest that we do not play with Quark again, or any other Ferengi.”

“I’d be inclined to agree with you on that one, Garak.” Julian picked up the box and was about to say goodbye, when Captain Sisko approached him.

“Afternoon, Captain. Anything I can do for you?” he asked.

“Good afternoon, Doctor. Yes, in fact- I see you have a copy of Monopoly, I haven’t played since I was a boy!” Sisko replied.

“Yes, I have a lot of old board and card games. Collecting them is a hobby of mine.”

Sisko was deep in thought for a moment, before raising a finger as though he had had a genius idea. “Maybe- if you don’t mind, that is- we could host a games night for our senior staff, and you could bring some of your antique games along? It would be _most_ interesting.”

Julian smiled. “That sounds like a lot of fun, I’d enjoy that. Shall I let Dax and the others know?”

“I’d like that,” Sisko grinned, before nodding to Garak and moving along down to the Promenade.

“Well, Doctor! It seems that your hobby will be catching on. Of course I do not presume to be invited, but I would be _most_ interested in seeing what other games you own.” Garak tugged at the hem of his tunic, straightening out the creases.

“Of course you can come, Garak! After all, they are my games, and I’m sure the Captain won’t mind me bringing you along.”

“Well then, my dear, I shall see you then. Despite the.. aggravating nature of this game, I did enjoy myself. Do enjoy the rest of your day.” And with that, he was gone, heading back to his shop, Julian presumed as he walked towards the nearest turbolift. He had a few ideas of games they could play, although Monopoly was entirely out of the question. He didn’t want to be the reason for anyone getting fired.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GAMES NIGHT ON DS9 COMING YOUR WAY SOON!  
> I just really want to write Kira furiously playing Uno, and the non-Humans not getting the references in Cards Against Humanity while a very drunk Miles and Julian are absolutely losing their shit. I feel like Odo would like Cluedo, but it's a shite game so I'm not writing it.. maybe Pictionary or Articulate? I haven't fully decided yet.  
> This chapter was so much fun to write, I'm really getting into this story that is /juuust/ bordering on crack levels of ridiculous. Also, I will definitely be getting Garak drunk again in the near future, hopefully with less injuries..
> 
> Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos are always appreciated <3


	3. Calm Before The Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian prepares for the games night. Rom has an unfortunate accident.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got the games night written out already, but I felt like it was way too long to wedge into this chapter. This ended up being sort of filler, sorry. I love Rom and wanted to include him in the story because he is precious.

After some planning at the next senior staff meeting, Sisko decided that Tuesday night in the Wardroom would be perfect for the games night. Everyone agreed to come, even Odo, who begrudgingly planned for one of his deputies to take his shift in the Security Office. “Only because the Major insisted,” he had grumbled.

It was now Tuesday morning, and Julian stood at his table, where he had laid out various games to decide from. He’d already decided no to Monopoly, due to the imminent danger of death to anyone playing that game with Garak or Kira - he imagined that she would not hesitate to resort to violence as Garak had. At least Odo would be there to stop any arguments, he supposed. 

It was then that his eyes fell upon a large square box, decorated with coloured circles, and he smiled to himself.  _ Oh, yes. He’ll like this one. _

He picked out a couple more smaller boxes - one red, one black - and put the rest away. Heading out to the Infirmary for his shift, the doctor grinned. Tonight would be interesting.

Work was slow today, and Julian was spinning round in his office chair. He supposed it was good: nobody had got into any major accidents. Chief O’Brien had come in with a bump on the head from crawling about in the conduits, but other than that there had been no incidents. He found himself anticipating the evening ahead; he always enjoyed spending time with his friends in the Ops crew, and Garak joining him was bound to be an adventure. They had been spending more time together as of recently, even if it was just Julian dropping by the tailor’s shop for a chat before his shift started, or a slightly extended lunch break. Their weekly lunches had become twice a week, then three times - sometimes four - and he certainly wasn’t complaining.

After a life of not really having anyone to talk to, he finally felt like he fit in somewhere - he had friends, a social life, and the best job in the world, with colleagues who liked and respected him. DS9 was far away - far enough from home that he didn’t have to deal with his overbearing mother and disapproving father - and so he almost never found himself homesick. Despite the station’s clunky Cardassian design and constant malfunctions, there was always something going on, and he felt at home here, never bored. 

Never bored indeed: Quark came running into the Infirmary, panting.

“Doctor Bashir, you have to come to the bar! Now!” he managed between breaths.

Julian grabbed his medkit. “Okay Quark, what’s happened now? Do I need to call Odo?”

“No, he probably is already in there anyway, being a chair or a bottle or something. It’s Rom.” He’d never seen Quark look genuinely worried about his brother before, so he let himself be dragged by the arm up the stairs of the bar towards the holosuite controls, where Rom lay whimpering and clasping his hands to his ears.

“What happened, Rom?” The Ferengi cried out at this, curling up and gripping his ears tighter. He pulled Quark to the side and whispered, “What happened to him?”

“He was doing some maintenance on the holosuite when there was this awful high-pitched ringing sound. I heard it too, of course, but he was right next to it when it happened, and he’s been on the floor crying ever since.” Quark looked down at the sorry sight beneath him and sighed, rubbing his own ear tenderly. “The rest of my staff are alright, but I’m worried Rom’s ears will be permanently damaged. He’s the only one who knows how these holosuites work, and I’m barely breaking even on them as it is. I can’t afford to hire a technician.”

Julian gave him a withering look. “Do you ever think about anything except money?”

“If I didn’t care about Rom, do you think I’d have left my bar to  _ personally _ come get you? Really, Doctor, I can’t believe you’d be so discriminatory!” Quark stared back at him reproachfully. He rolled his eyes and left him, moving to stand next to the cowering Rom.

“Emergency medical transport to the Infirmary. Energise.”

Upon their arrival at the Infirmary, Julian immediately put a finger up to his lips as two Bajoran nurses walked into the room. He got Rom to sit on the biobed and whispered his orders to the nurses, before sighing and getting to work.

-

“Alright Rom, that should do it. How do you feel?”

“I-I-I feel… much better now, Dr Bashir, thank you,” Rom stuttered out He scuttled out of the Infirmary holding the ear plugs he had been given as a precaution, just in case it happened again. Julian sank back into his office chair - the treatment to stop Rom’s pain had taken an hour, and his shift was nearly over - when someone else walked through the doors. Dove grey scales looked bleached-white in the harsh lighting, and the ever-placid smile on his face, always such a point of intrigue, held undertones of something Julian couldn’t quite put his finger on.

“Garak! I hope you’re not injured too, wouldn’t want you to miss the party now, would we?”

“My dear doctor, there is no place else I would rather be. Shall we?”

“Oh sure, I’ve just got to finish up a few bits here, then we can be on our way. Oh, and I have to stop by my quarters to pick up the games we’re playing tonight. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all! That means I’ll get an advantage - I get to learn the rules before anyone else this time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Odo is definitely going to cheat at Twister.


	4. Drunk Teenagers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Odo is surprisingly good at Terran games.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to leave some of the dialogue open in this so you can decide in your head who's saying what. Not so much that it affects the story though. Just thought I'd try something new.

The walk to the Wardroom was animated - Garak, once he’d figured out the games, had an air of confidence about him. They entered the room - Quark had managed to weasel himself in by way of “offering refreshments”, Kira stony-faced at the sight of Garak, and the others were all holding drinks and chatting. Sisko walked forward.

“So, Doctor, what have you brought for us?”

“Three games dated back to the 21st century. All in top condition, might I add.” Julian decided to leave the best for last - when everyone was slightly more inebriated.

“First, we have a little game called Cards Against Humanity. Heard of it?”

Jadzia obviously had, as she snorted. “This is  _ not  _ going to end well, Julian, you know that?” Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.

"So one person each round is the judge. They pull a black card which has a question or a fill-in-the-blanks sentence on it, and everyone else has to choose from their white cards to make the funniest or most offensive sentence." 

"This is how humans spent their time 300 years ago?"

"Mostly drunk teenagers, but yes."

"So what you're saying is we're a bunch of drunk teenagers?"

"Well we're drunk."

"I'm not."

"Odo, you don't drink."

"I know. Looks like I'll have to be the caretaker tonight."

"Poor Odo. You'll never understand the pleasure of being pleasantly tipsy."

"Shut up, Quark. Why are you here anyway? You weren't invited."

"Okay, okay, I'm leaving."

“Alright, our black card says.. “Why do I ache all over?”

It was Kira’s turn to judge, and Julian had to admit, the non-humans were starting to get the hang of the game. Odo didn’t really get it - “Why would you try to be offensive?” - and ended up choosing random cards more often than not, but the results ended up being so stupidly funny that he was actually winning. Sisko was trying not to lose his composure, and - although nobody could tell except Julian - so was Garak. They had had to remove the more subjective cards from play, to be fair on the people who didn’t get the Earth history references. No Barack Obama references for Julian.

Julian looked at the cards in his hand.. Nothing. He sighed and put the best match face down on the floor - they had started the game sat at the table, but soon realised that the floor was better. Garak was sitting next to him, and he could practically feel his body heat next to him. Once everyone had made their choices, Kira picked the cards up and began to read them out.

“Okay, why do I ache all over? Guillotines for breakfast,” silence -  _ ouch _ , Julian thought - “saying I love you,” a chuckle from Miles - “land mines- oh  _ no _ , who put that one?” She broke off into laughter. “It’s not funny, it shouldn’t be funny, I think I’ve had too much springwine-  _ bees _ ?” At this, Sisko lost it and so did almost everyone else. Garak, trying to hide his amusement, snorted quietly. Miles had put his weight back on one arm behind him, which buckled, and he fell over. Julian couldn’t even breathe. Fucking bees.

Odo sat, confused. “Does that mean I won?”

Kira slapped his back. “Yes, Odo, you won. How are you so good at this? You can’t tell me you don’t get this game.” She wiped a tear from her face.

“I’ll never understand you humanoids,” he grumbled, picking up a black card. “My homeboys tried to warn me, but  _ blank _ makes me so horny.” He sighed in exasperation. “What is it with humans and their obsession with mating? Half of these questions have been about sex!”

Garak won the round with “the current political climate”. Fitting.

Miles tried to get up to pull a black card, but ended up retching all over the Wardroom carpet - and Jadzia’s leg. She groaned.

“Dax to Keiko.”

“Hi Commander, what’s wrong?”

“Your husband has just thrown up on me - little too much synthale. I’m going to take him back to your quarters, are you home?” She stood up, helping Miles to stand.

“No, no, I’m fine, I- I feel much better now, I’ll be fine!” he complained, but he started hacking again. “Okay, I see your point.” He staggered to his feet and pointed towards the door emphatically. “Take me home, Commander!”

“See you there, Miles. Keiko out.”

Miles, arm over Jadzia’s shoulder, had begun to sing a sea shanty. She turned and grimaced at the others, before helping him out of the door.

“Bagsy not cleaning that up,” Julian said.

“Me too.”

“Me three.”

"Well, I'm not doing it."

And so Odo, poor Odo, the only sober person in the room, had to clean it up.

“When Dax gets back, let’s play something else, something that doesn’t need you to think so much. I’m too drunk to think.”

No Uno for tonight, then. Maybe another time.

Kira eyed the other boxes suspiciously. “What’s the big one?”

“Ah, this is something I had in mind specially for Odo.” Odo’s eyes flickered up from where he was disinfecting the carpet.

“What is it?”

“This,” Julian said as he got up to retrieve the box, “Is Twister.”

-

After setting up the mat on the floor, Julian briefly explained the rules.

“So the spinner tells you how to move, for example “right hand red”, and you have to put your right hand on a red dot. The idea is that you can only touch the mat with your hands or feet, and if you fall then you lose. Last man standing wins.”

Odo was interested now. “I see. I think I’ll enjoy this one a bit more.”

“No cheating, Odo! You’ll have an unfair advantage.” Kira was stretching her legs out from sitting on the floor, ready to play. Jadzia had not yet returned, meaning that there were 5 players - the perfect amount. Garak, deciding against playing with some excuse of “I’m not as flexible as I used to be” when Julian knew full well he just didn’t want to be in such close proximity to the others, spun the wheel. “Captain Sisko, right foot green.”

By the time Jadzia had returned wearing a clean uniform, Julian was at the bottom of a tangled human-changeling-Bajoran mess. Kira was giggling at Sisko’s face - he’d managed to get his feet crossed over on opposite sides of the mat, and was struggling to keep his body up. Odo was doing absolutely fine, a smug look on his face.

“Doctor, I hate to do this to you, but..” Julian looked up hopelessly at the Cardassian, who had seated himself on a chair to properly view the chaos. “Left hand blue.”

Julian already had his right hand on blue, leading to a very precarious position where his legs were unbalanced and his arms were crossed. He painstakingly shifted his left arm out from between Sisko’s knee and Kira’s stomach, but then Kira’s leg buckled and he got kneed right in the crotch. He yelped and fell to the floor, limbs crashing. Kira fell on top of him, and Sisko fell not long after. Julian, crushed under the weight of two adults, mumbled a string of curses. Kira’s chest heaved on top of him in silent laughter, and Sisko rolled off of the top of the pile, bumping into Odo’s leg, which was still firmly planted into the mat. The bastard had gotten rid of his knees, the bendy little shit.

“I win again.” He harrumphed happily.

“Odo- get off, I can’t breathe!” Julian gasped. Odo returned to his usual shape and stood up. Kira crawled off, still laughing. “That- that was definitely cheating.”

Jadzia just stood there, wondering what the hell had happened while she’d been gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tried to imagine Odo saying "homeboys" and "horny" in the same sentence and datafailure.exe crashed


	5. Unexpected Change Of Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian wants to take Garak horse-riding. Garak has other plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really, really loved writing this chapter. Enjoy!  
> (I don't know why, but as Captain Boday is never portrayed in the show, I always see him as looking like a mixture of Handsome Squidward and a Cyberman from Doctor Who..)

Thursday night, and again, Julian and Garak were sitting together in Quark’s. No spy costumes this time, however - this time Julian was in civvies (absolutely hideous-looking civvies) and Garak wore a dark green tunic - “to avoid staining”, as he’d told Julian amusedly. While they waited for their holosuite reservation, they people-watched, as they often did. Jadzia was having dinner with Captain Boday again.

“What do you think of him?” Julian asked. Jadzia seemed to be quite fond of him.

“Well, to avoid sounding rude, I’m not a fan of the transparent skull.”

“Garak!” A playful punch to the arm. “He can’t help it, can he?”

“Well no, he can’t, but he  _ could _ wear a hat every now and again.”

“Personally, I think he’s rather attractive.” Julian smirked as he watched Garak’s face twist in disgust.

“Really? I was under the impression that you preferred women.”

“Not really, I just have a… specific type with men. Not so much with women. So it’s more likely that I find a woman attractive than a man, although I’m attracted to either sex equally.”

“And Captain Boday over there is your… type?”

Julian’s face flushed bright red.

“I mean- uhh, in some ways, yes, but I’m not  _ attracted to him- _ ”

A flash of something Julian couldn’t quite place crossed Garak’s face. “Say no more, Doctor. I see how it is. You like tall, gangly men with see-through heads.” 

Julian tried to protest, but his flustered brain wouldn’t let him get a word out. He rested his head in his hands, willing his face to return to normal.

“Excuse the interruption, gentlemen, but your holosuite is ready.” Quark handed Julian a datarod. Miles had got a copy of this program off the Enterprise - it was said that Captain Picard enjoyed it.

“Right, um. Thank you, Quark. Let’s go, Garak.” And with that, he speedwalked away from Captain Boday, clear skull and all, and up towards the holosuites, Garak trailing behind.

-

“No bikes today, I hope?”

“No. Horses.” Julian led Garak by the hand to a small stable, in which there were two beautiful horses, one white and one dappled grey. They were already saddled and ready to go. Garak looked at the creatures with some amazement.

“Beautiful, aren’t they?”

“Yes, Doctor, incredible. Your home planet really does have some wonderful things on it. So, I take it by the seats that we’re to be riding them?”

Julian got a leg up in the stirrup and swung himself over the horse’s back. “Yes, you get on like this. Need a hand?”

“No thank you Doctor, I’m quite able to get on myself- oof!” He had tried to climb on carefully - a common mistake - and lost his balance, staggering backwards until he reached a wall to brace himself on. Julian snickered.

“Not too good at riding things, are you, Garak?”

“I can assure you,  _ doctor, _ that I am quite skilled in matters of that respect.” Realising the implications of what he’d just said, his jaw dropped. Julian started laughing harder.

“Oh, really? I never pegged you as the type,” Julian said wryly, before catching himself and covering his face again, mortified.

“I’ll show you. Mount this! Computer, replace horse with Cardassian riding hound.” The horse disappeared and Julian screeched as he began to fall out of the air, but he was caught by a lean, charcoal-black creature, covered by a thin sheen of coarse hair. Like a massive dog, but-

“Ow! Garak, why the fuck is it spiky? Shit!” The hound’s entire body tensed from having a full-sized Julian drop on it.

“Everything is spiky on Cardassia, my dear.”

Julian stared in disbelief, ignoring his unstable position on the hound. He wobbled, fell off, and landed in the hay spread on the stable floor. Now it was Garak’s turn to laugh.

“Not too good at riding things, are we, doctor?” He stepped awkwardly around the remaining horse, who seemed quite unbothered by the disappearance of her friend, and held out his hands to help Julian get up. As he stood, the tailor released one hand and gently pulled out the straw that had been caught in his curly hair. Julian leaned into the touch subconsciously before catching himself, clearing his throat and standing up rigid again. “Here, I’ll get on first. You can ride behind me.” He expertly mounted the sitting hound, before grabbing Julian by the waist and plopping him on the hound’s back behind him. Julian was surprised by how effortlessly Garak picked him up, but then again, not really. There wasn’t much of him, after all. He wrapped his arms round Garak’s middle as the hound stood and, with a sharp order in Kardasi, bounded out of the stable and into the surrounding field.

-

It was like nothing Julian had ever experienced - lower down than a horse, faster too, and although he had to keep avoiding the spines down the creature’s back, it was truly exhilarating to feel the wind rushing past his face, which was resting comfortably on Garak’s right shoulder. The close proximity felt strange, but in a good way. Garak had never let him come this close before - only the brush of a hand, a squeeze on the shoulder or the arm. The permanent holographic sunset shone golden on his face, bounced off his scales, making them look almost iridescent, glowing. Whether his cheeks were dusted red because of the wind or how close he suddenly felt to his friend, he did not know and decided not to look into. Laughing breathlessly, he held Garak tighter and forgot about work, about the Dominion, about his parents, and pretended that this was real; riding off into the sunset with his best friend without a care in the world.

After a while, the hound slowed down to an easy walk, and Julian relaxed against Garak’s back.

“So, my dear, what did you think of your first time?” Garak asked, softer now, calm.

“It was- oh, it was wonderful! Not exactly what I had planned for tonight, but I think I liked it better.”

Garak turned his head to the side to look at Julian’s face, blissed out and peaceful. “Of course, I’d be interested in horse riding another night, but you must know that I have a selection of activities I’d like to introduce you to as well, and I think this was a good start.” The unchanging sky reflected in their eyes as they met, gazing fondly at each other. “You realise there’s no need to hold me quite so tightly now? You’re not going to fall.”

Julian spluttered, embarrassed, and looked away, releasing his grip. “Sorry, I-” when he was stopped by smooth hands over his.

“My dear, I didn’t say I had a problem with it.” Now Garak looked embarrassed too. Julian realised that he’d dropped the “doctor” off the end - when had that started? Not that he minded, but it made him feel strange.

“I, uh - computer, time?” He needed a segue, to change the subject. This was not a conversation he wanted to have today.

“The time is 2237 hours.”

“Shit, I have an early shift tomorrow- oh god, Quark’s gonna charge me overtime, isn’t he- fuck, Garak, I really must go and get some rest.” Julian eased himself off the riding hound, which had slowed to a standstill at some point, and immediately staggered in pain. “Ow, my arse!”

Garak dismounted with a bit more elegance. “Ah, sorry. I forgot to mention that riding can cause quite a bit of discomfort for first-timers. Are you alright?”

“I’ll be fine, just need to- ooh, fuck- get some rest-  _ fuck, _ I’m gonna be limping back to my quarters, aren’t I?”

“I’m afraid it seems so. Unless you’d like to make a quick stop by the Infirmary on your way back? I’d be happy to accompany you.”

“Might be a good idea, I do not want to be working an early with a sore backside,” Julian replied, grimacing and rubbing his lower back as he hobbled towards the door. “Computer, exit.”

And they walked back out into the hustle and bustle of Quark’s at nighttime. Jadzia was still there, drunker, leaning over the bar and saying something into Quark’s ear, when the two of them looked up at the limping doctor being helped along by a  _ very  _ happy-looking Cardassian.

“Looks like one of them finally made a move,” Jadzia smirked, watching as the pair walked out of the bar, laughing together.

“Taken them long enough. They’ve been eye-fucking in my bar for months."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fuse is finally lit, but it's gonna be burning for a while before anything happens.


	6. Happy Little Trees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian invites Garak to his quarters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> VanillaHorizon suggested paintball (thank you VanillaHorizon) and this is where my mind took it.  
> Also, they've started doing Joy of Painting reruns on BBC 4 (I think) and it has been following me EVERYWHERE. I went to the optician the other day, where they robbed me of my money so that I can see, and he was on in the waiting room. He was on my Twitter timeline. He was on the TV guide. I cannot escape Bob Ross. So here you go, Bob Ross chapter.

“What do you call this?”

“A tarp.”

“Interesting. Is it a new decor piece for your quarters?”

“No, silly, it’s to protect the carpet.”

“I see.”

Garak was in Julian’s quarters, having completely ignored the order to wear old clothes - “but doctor, it just wouldn’t do to have the station’s resident tailor walking about in tattered old rags, now, would it?” - but luckily, Julian had an old overcoat from one of his spy programs that had a rather large gunshot in it. 

“You’re gonna have to wear this, to stop your clothes from getting ruined.” He handed Garak the coat, which he begrudgingly put on, tugging the loose ties into a knot at the waist. Looking at the boxes set up on the tarp, and the holoscreen on the wall activated, he quickly surmised what they were doing.

“Painting?”

“Yes, I-” Julian smiled, looking away. “I thought you might enjoy doing something a bit less action-packed for once, and there’s not enough room on my table to sit at it- I found an old recording of a prominent Earth artist, and I thought we could follow along with it.” He dropped down to sit on the tarp, and it crinkled under his weight. “It’s silly, isn’t it? We can do something else..”

Garak sat and joined him, stretching his arms out above his head. “And waste all the effort you put into this? No, my dear, I wouldn’t dream of it.”

There it was again. My dear.

_ Not now, not today, _ Julian told himself.

At least Garak seemed genuinely excited to do this.

“Right, uh.. I’ll get the recording ready.” Not wanting to get up, he dragged his butt over to the panel on the wall, and slotted the data rod in. Garak snorted, making him look back reproachfully.

“I’m not getting up just to walk 2 metres to the wall.”

“I didn’t say anything!”

A middle-aged human, silver-bearded, with a curly halo of hair, had appeared on the screen.

“His name’s Bob Ross. His series was really popular, even after he died. He did these lovely landscape paintings, and he shows you how to do it. It’s nice. Relaxing.” Julian ran a hand through his unstyled hair - today was the first day off he’d had in weeks, and he was letting himself relax. No perfect coiffure today, thank you very much. A stray curl fell in front of his face, and Garak almost moved to push it behind his ear, but clenched his fist instead.

“I must admit, Doctor, I’ve never much applied myself to painting. Safe to say it isn’t my forte.” 

“Oh, me neither. I haven’t painted since I was a young child. We can try our best, though, can’t we?” Julian produced a large plastic palette from the box, followed by two thin boards covered in canvas, and a selection of paints and brushes. “I, uh, didn’t know what colours to replicate, so I got them all.”

“Of course you did.”

-

Julian quickly realised he had absolutely no skill at painting.

He could mend a broken bone with his eyes closed, perform complex surgery without breaking a sweat, but painting a tree? Nope.

He was still following along with the program, just about, but he found himself looking at Garak most of the time. He looked so peaceful, cross-legged on the floor in Julian’s old trench coat, painting happy little trees on the canvas, and  _ holy fuck he tied his hair up what the fuck I’ve never seen him do that he looks so cute NOPE no we are not going down that road today Julian. Stop it. _

But he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

A sideways glance from Garak, a sly smile, and he caught himself a second too late - the flick of a paintbrush splattered green all over his clothes. His jaw dropped.

“Bastard. You’re on.”

And he dunked his paintbrush into the nearest colour, flicking it back at Garak. The look of shock on the Cardassian’s face was well worth it, but he was quick to retaliate, and a generous helping of red sprayed down his neck and torso.

“God, it looks like I just killed someone!”

“Quite an appealing look on you, dear. Do keep up.” Garak grinned gleefully as another brushload of paint, pink this time, hit him in the leg.

“Right, that’s it.” Game time. Julian gathered up all the paint on his palette and catapulted it into Garak’s neck. Yellow-green-blue splashed up onto his chin, and the rest of it dropped into his lap. “Fuck, I’m out of paint.” Some of that phthalo blue that Mr Ross seemed so fond of landed in his hair and dripped down his forehead, and he groaned. “Garak, that’s going to take ages to get out!”

... 

“.....Garak?”

He had stopped.

Paintbrush in one hand, other hand bracing his body against the floor, he sat motionless, staring.

“Garak, are you okay?”

A look of panic crossed his eyes and he stood up hurriedly, almost running out of the room. He opened the wrong door first, and cursed under his breath as he walked into the bathroom. He untied the trench coat, dropped it on the floor, and walked out of Julian’s quarters without another word.

“Garak, wait!”

The door swished shut, and Julian was alone in his quarters, cross-legged on the floor.

_ What the fuck just happened? _

He stood up and stretched his legs. At some point during their exchange, the recording had ended - the room was silent but for the ambient hum of the station. Looking towards the door that Garak had just used, he saw erratic paint splatters covering the floor. He smiled.

“Well, at least the carpet is less drab now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if I'm ever gonna have Garak explain this. One can surmise if one knows enough about Cardassian culture.  
> What would he even say to Julian? "Sorry I panicked and left but you got Cardassian Shagging Blue on your forehead and I didn't want to get h0rny lmao"  
> Idk why but the words just didn't come to me with this one, I got stuck around the middle bit. Hope you enjoyed anyway!


	7. The Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian nearly gets scalped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> datafailure can have little a jadzia pov, as a treat

“Bashir to Dax.”

“Dax here, Julian, what’s up? It’s late, you know.”

“I need help. Can you come to my quarters?”

“On it. Dax out.”

Jadzia walked out of her quarters, sighing. Good thing she hadn’t got changed yet.

When she arrived at Julian’s door, she was greeted by the most exasperated-looking doctor she had ever seen. His clothes and body were covered in paint, and a black comb was stuck in his.... blue?.... hair.

“Help me.”

“Julian, what the fuck happened?” she asked.

“Garak.”

“Oh? Trouble in paradise?” she smirked. Julian looked confused.

“I- what? What are you talking about?”

“Aren’t you guys together?”

“No!” he exclaimed, though he blushed fiercely at the outburst.

“But you fucked! In the holosuite!” Jadzia was beginning to see what was going on.

“What?! No, I was- we were riding horses!”

“What’s a horse?”

“Well, it was a horse but then Garak turned it into a riding hound-”

“ _What is a horse?_ ”

“-and then it was spiky and my ass hurt after riding it, we didn’t have _sex,_ Jadzia, god!” He plopped down on the couch and hid his face. “I asked you here to help me, not embarrass me,” he moaned.

“Well, what do you need help with?”

“This.” He pointed to the comb stuck in his hair. “We were painting and then we started throwing it at each other and I can’t get this shit out of my _fucking hair,_ I’ve been trying for an hour and I do not want a bald patch Jadzia, the nurses in the Infirmary would never take me seriously ever again, and Garak- god, I don’t even know what Garak would say- or if he’ll even talk to me ever again-”

“Julian. Calm down. I’ll fix this.” She walked over to the replicator. “Computer, a spray bottle of warm water and some hair oil.” When the items appeared, she settled herself on the sofa next to Julian. “But you’re going to tell me EVERYTHING about what’s been going on between you and Garak these past couple of weeks.”

-

“...and then he stood up and he was [fucking fuming](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ptKDBXHn6dY&ab_channel=juliettebravo), raging, and Quark tried to stand up and face him but he scuttled off soon enough, and Garak was still angry and I couldn’t help myself, I just started laughing my ass off because his _face,_ Jadzia, you should have seen it!” Julian giggled, then yelped at a sharp tug to his hair.

“Stay still, or I’ll scalp you, mister.”

“Right, right, okay, sorry.”

The hair oil was working - slowly - and Jadzia was slowly working her way through his head, freeing each strand as gently as helping a lizard escape from a glue trap. There were some losses - there had to be - and Julian groaned every time the small pile of blue, sticky clumps of hair got bigger.

“How come you guys are spending so much more time together anyway?” 

“Oh, I don’t know. I enjoy his company, and he enjoys mine. That’s what he said when we met, anyway - enjoyable company.” Jadzia’s hand stilled and she spluttered.

“What?”

“What?”

“Julian, enjoyable company is- is not what-” she laughed- “that’s not what it means..”

“Well, what _does_ it mean then?”

“Julian.” He looked at her face - eyebrow quirked upwards, a lascivious smile on her lips - and his jaw dropped.

“HE- sorry, inside voices- _he propositioned me?_ ” He ended the sentence in a desperate whisper.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Well- I- actually, that would make a lot of things make sense, like when he put his hands on my shoulders and I was so confused, like _what does that mean?_ , and when we rode the hound and I was so close to him and my brain kept telling me to kiss him and I was like _no Julian, what the fuck, that’s your best friend,_ and I guess it was why he panicked when we were in here alone, but we were alone the whole time and it was fine until he got this- this FUCKING paint in my hair!” He took a moment to breathe. “Do you think he thinks he’s upset me? Ow!” Jadzia had used his moment of distraction to tug out a knot; she smiled apologetically.

“Talk to him, Julian. Find out what’s wrong.”

“Fuck off will I. The man’s so good at lying, I don’t even know if _he_ knows what the truth is! And anyway, that would be far too humiliating.” He sighed, trying to run his hands through his hair and groaning when his finger got stuck in the mass of blue paint.

“Look, stop moving! Come here.” Jadzia grabbed his head and pushed it into her lap. “There we go.”

Julian laughed. “You know, a few years ago I would have just about died if you’d done that.” He manouevred his body into a more comfortable position.

“Yeah, well, what can I say? It’s a friends-only privilege.” 

“Oh yeah? What about Worf?” Now it was Jadzia’s turn to look uncomfortable.

“He’s only just arrived! I have to be… professional about these things. Apparently, you couldn’t handle that.”

“Fuck off, it was different then.”

“Was it?”

“Anyway, you’re like 300 years old! You have experience with these things!”

“You could have been a _little_ bit less forward, though.”

“Oh, well sorry for being _attracted_ to you, God.”

“I didn’t say that, did I?” Jadzia looked down at him. “It was cute, you know. But I don’t date younger men.”

“Shut up and get this out of my hair, please.”

"You never even told me what a horse was!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Garak's gonna be back next chapter, don't worry guys


	8. Apology

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garak returns to set things straight.  
> Julian's thoughts are anything but.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am lonely and fed up with being single so you will have to put up with sappy romantic shit, I'm afraid. I live through this story because I get approximately 0 friendly interaction IRL.  
> Also, I had Apology by Alesana (GOOD fucking band) stuck in my head while I was writing, hence the title.

It was 2230 hours when the door chimed. Julian’s hair was free of paint and back to its normal hue, and he and Jadzia were halfway through their second bottle of replicated booze. It was cheap swill, but it did the job nicely, and neither of them could bother going to Quark’s for overpriced cheap swill.

“Come in!” Julian yelled. The door swished open, and Garak walked in stiffly.

“Doctor, I must apologise for my outburst earlier- oh, you have company. I’m sorry, should I come back later?” He stood in the open doorway, awkward.

“No, it’s fine, I was just leaving anyway, Garak.” Jadzia stood up with a bit of a wobble, and hissed in Julian’s ear. “ _ Talk to him! _ ”

With a polite nod to Garak, she was out of the door, and they were alone together again.

“I see you’ve.. managed to clean yourself up. I do apologise for any inconvenience I caused.” He walked towards Julian.

“No, Garak, it was fine, it was funny - but why did you leave?”

He fell silent again. As he began to turn back towards the door, Julian grabbed his arm, and he stiffened instantly.

“Garak, wait. I- I don’t know if I’ve broken some Cardassian social taboo, or...”

“One could put it that way,” he responded briskly.

“Well, I didn’t know, and whatever I did, I’m sorry and I’ll try not to do it again, okay? Please don’t be angry with me.”

His face softened, and he laid his hand on top of the one grabbing his arm.

“My dear, I could never be angry with you.”

They were stood close,  _ too close, _ Julian thought, but he couldn’t bring himself to move away. This kept happening - this closeness, this strange feeling in the hollows of his chest, like something was waiting to burst out. It frustrated him. 

He opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out, and he watched Garak’s eyes fall down, away from his. The heat emanating from the palm pressed over his was making him feel hot and cold all over, woozy from drink and heavy-headed, and he staggered suddenly, bracing his other hand against the solid chest in front of him. He noticed, now they were standing so closely, that Garak was maybe a couple of inches shorter than him, even without the added height of the Starfleet regulation boots that he had kicked off hours ago. The tension in the air was so thick it could have been sliced through with a phaser beam, and Julian still couldn’t tear his eyes off of the man stood before him, mouth so slightly open, he could lean in and  _ just- _

The door opened, breaking the silence.

“Sorry Julian, forgot my- oh, shit, sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude!” 

Fuck.

Julian’s head snapped back immediately, and he jumped away from Garak like a kid that had been caught stealing snacks from the cupboard. He was breathing heavily and his face felt hot. Garak had not taken his eyes off him. Jadzia awkwardly sidestepped around them to grab her… what had she left? Julian couldn’t remember her bringing anything with her to his quarters. She half-walked, half-ran out of the room, and as the door slid shut he heard a gleeful giggle come from the corridor.  _ Asshole. _

“Well, Doctor, since you accepted my apology, am I to assume we are having lunch at the usual time tomorrow?” Garak seemed to have recovered from the situation.

“Uh- yes, yes, of course. Are we still on for that game of kotra?” His head was spinning, still trying to process what had just happened. The alcohol pumping through his system was not helping -  _ whose idea was that? Oh yeah, it was mine. Well done, Julian. _

“Of course. I’ll see you then, my dear. Goodnight.” And with that, he was gone, and Julian sank back down into his sofa. 

_ My dear. _

Every day spent with Garak was making him more and more confused. For as long as he could remember, things like this had been so easy - a coy smile, a  _ heartfelt  _ tale about the Starfleet Medical finals, a hand on the knee - but none of that would work on Garak. None of that meant anything, not when he was faced with blisteringly passionate debate and tipsy laughter and grey-blue scales that glistened in the holographic sunset. What did a Cardassian sunset look like? A K-class star combined with the dust in the air would make quite a picture. He could imagine himself there - rich orange-red-purple haze surrounding him, and nothing but endless desert for kilometres. The heat would have dissipated by then, but it would be pleasantly warm, the coppery sand leaving a faint metallic taste in his mouth. Wonderful. Maybe once the conflict with the Dominion was over, he’d ask Garak to take him there.

That is, if he didn’t fuck everything up with Garak beforehand.

“God, what am I meant to do now?” he groaned.

Damn that tailor and his obfuscation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE TENSION OOOOOO  
> (imagine someone being attracted to you???? could NEVER be me)  
> I actually found out that someone invented some rules to kotra - it seems really fun to play! I'll link the creator in the next chapter, but I'll be writing it by their rules as I don't think anyone else has made any.


	9. Garak Is A Sneaky Little Bastard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garak tells Julian how to swear in Kardasi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Julian definitely uses outdated slang. He's that sorta guy. Mf walking about calling things "groovy" like Tom Paris.  
> (I feel like those two would get along..)
> 
> Kotra rules are by abayomi, link is here https://www.deviantart.com/abayomi/art/Kotra-A-Cardassian-Board-Game-358882378

Julian was unfocused, his entire body jittering. It was only just 1100 and he was nursing his fifth raktajino of the morning, having laid awake in his bed until the wee hours of the morning thinking about the previous evening. His hands had tingled strangely for hours after Garak left, residual heat from his body searing hot on his palms, and his slow march back to sobriety had left him dizzy, half-conscious, then falling and waking up grabbing pillows. When he finally managed to get to sleep, it was not restful, and after what seemed like only a few seconds he was woken by the dull chime of his alarm. Thankfully, he had no surgeries scheduled today - a few routine birth control injections and immunisations, nothing serious - and so his shaky hands weren’t too much of an issue. His distracted mind, however, was - he nearly gave a young Ensign a dose of tranquiliser rather than a tetanus booster. He resigned himself to office work after that, not willing to knock out any innocent outpatients.

By lunch break, his caffeine shakes had eased off, but his mind was still racing. He’d done some research on kotra, of course, after several of Garak’s book recommendations had alluded to the game. The rules - revolving mostly around secrecy, deception, and sneak attacks - seemed very Cardassian.  _ Of course they are, it’s a Cardassian game. _

“Ah, Doctor!” A familiar voice drew him from his thoughts. “Are you ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be. I’m somewhat familiar with the rules, but I wouldn’t mind a recap.”

-

“...so the utmost importance is placed upon the position of the mines and the capital, as capturing the opponent’s capital marks the end of the game.”

“Right.” Julian’s head was spinning. Too much information, too much caffeine.  _ I’m going to lose, and Garak won’t let me live it down for weeks. _

“I’ll assume you’re ready to play, then. I always take gold, but if you want I’ll play silver this time.”

“Well, I certainly wouldn’t want to put you out of sorts, especially after you so kindly offered to play with me. I’ll be silver.” He saw Garak grin slyly as they sank back into their usual repartee.

“Thank you, my dear. Gold it is.”

While setting up his board, Julian pondered the popular ploy of placing his agent next to his gul. Would it be too obvious? Would Garak see right through his textbook strategy? He decided to play it safe, putting them next to each other by the centre of the board. His capital was well-defended, surrounded by four mines, and he created a mental image of where all his pieces were as he added them to the board.

“This game has got to be the most convoluted thing I have ever played. It’s ridiculous.” Garak looked up from his side of the board, kotra piece in hand and nostrils flared.

“Doctor, surely you recognise that kotra is one of the most popular games in the history of Cardassia, and for good reason too. As was proven during your… rather crude Earth game the other night, your kind simply do not have the capacity for truly challenging games such as this. Perhaps I should have chosen a Vulcan to play with, instead.”

“Oh, and where will you find a Vulcan that’s as willing to put up with your arrogance as I? Anyway, you’d be lucky to find one on this cultural mishmash of a station - they tend to keep to their own.” 

“Arrogant! Me! Why, doctor, I do believe you are looking into a mirror. Who was it who incessantly pursued the good Lieutenant Dax for many months, despite constant rejection?”

“Jadzia is my  _ friend, _ Garak. And she told me that she rather enjoyed my chasing her, although that only came out when we were both about to die. Anyway, she’s into Worf now, everybody knows that.”

“I didn’t. How long has that been going on?” Julian’s insides turned with glee, knowing that he had information that Garak didn’t. He leaned forwards, careful to ensure that his elbows didn’t bump the kotra board.

“Since he arrived on the station,” he smirked. “I’ve seen her eyes following him about. She can’t talk to anyone about subtlety, not anymore.”

“Really! One would think that, after 300 years of life, she would have learned to hide her emotions.” That made Julian laugh.

“Well, maybe she doesn’t want to. Maybe she’s tired of hiding her true feelings, maybe she wants to be open about them.”

“Still, it is… wise to hide anything- or anyone- that can make one vulnerable, is it not? To avoid putting them in danger, of course.” Julian was faintly aware that this conversation was probably not about Jadzia and Worf anymore, but he responded anyway.

“Not everyone is a wanted spy, Garak. And anyway, if you really care about someone, then you’ll face any danger together. Because you love them and want to protect them.”

“That’s a very human view of things, my dear.” Garak sighed, finally placing the piece on the board. “If you’re finished setting up your pieces, shall we begin?”

Julian stared at him for a second, trying to decipher his facial expression. Was he sad? Annoyed? Disgusted? The shield he had around him at all times, that fake, pleasant disposition, seemed almost unbreakable at times. Just when he thought he’d found a way around it, something else always came up. He’d say the wrong thing, make a move too close, and he’d shut himself off again. It was exhausting, playing this endless game. Meanwhile, another game was waiting to start.

“Right, yes. Who starts?”

“Silver.”

“Ah, trying to figure me out first by choosing gold, are you? You won’t have much luck, I’m afraid.”

“My dear, I have been playing this game since I was a small child. This, I believe, will be your first game. You would do well not to underestimate me.” Again, that placid smile. Julian knew the danger behind that smile firsthand.  _ It shouldn’t make me feel like that… _

“My  _ dear _ Mister Garak, you should know how I’ve learned never to underestimate you.”

“And how would that be? I’m just a-”

“A plain and simple tailor, I know. I know the game you play.” He rolled the dice and moved a glinn forward 3 spaces into Garak’s territory. “I know enough to never trust you.”

That earned a genuine smile. “There’s hope for you yet.”

-

Half of Julian’s good pieces were gone off the board. His reserve pieces were all out, and he was losing terribly.

“Don’t you dare - oh, fuck you, Garak. That was a dick move.” Garak had just taken his Legate, and the leer on his face was infuriating.

“That was a perfectly good move, my dear. I wonder how you’ll recover?” But Julian was already scheming his next move - his agent was close by, and if he could  _ just  _ get the right roll of the dice-

“Bingo!” He grinned.

“Wrong game, Doctor.”

“Shut up, just let me-” he manouevred his agent towards Garak’s Legate and- “Now yours is dead too, so you can suck your mum, you smug Cardassian.”

“Suck my-- what?” Garak looked lost, and Julian cackled.

“It’s a- it’s an old English insult, I was reading up on some stuff and I guess it just came out.” His laughter subsided momentarily. “It’s quite fun to say, and less vulgar than a lot of the others.” He realised how confused Garak still looked, and started laughing again.

“Is all your language so vulgar? I find that most, if not all, of your colloquial language has sexual undertones. Absurd.” He sat upright, prim and proper, with that smug Cardassian superiority complex written all over his face.

“You’re telling me you don’t have  _ any  _ sexual slang in Kardasi? None at all?”

“Well, there is some, but it’s not exactly part of casual conversation.” He averted his eyes from Julian’s smirking face.

“Oh, go on, Garak, teach me some Cardassian swear words. I promise not to repeat them in front of Gul Dukat.”

“Actually, I think it’s a good idea for you to do that,” Garak chuckled. “Insult him in his mother tongue-- can you  _ imagine  _ the look on his face?”

“Now that would be a sight to see. How do you say “fuck” in Kardasi?”

“Doctor! How crude! We’re in public, you know.” Julian didn’t miss the slight darkening of his aural ridges.

“It’s fine, I’m off duty. Anyway, it’s your turn.” Garak huffed, exasperated, and rolled the dice.

“Tell me how to say fuck, pleeeeeease?” The withering look he got in response was worth it - as soon as Garak opened his mouth, Julian knew a rant was coming.

“Just because you are entirely immodest, waltzing about the station with a new woman on your arm every week, does not mean I am privy to your juvenile and bawdy humour!” With one swift move, he took Julian’s capital. Not that he noticed - he was too busy formulating an appropriately snarky response.

“Oh, and I suppose you’re perfectly virtuous, a model Cardassian citizen? Somehow I find it hard to believe that you’re so pure and innocent.”

“My dear, I am quite the model citizen. I do not deviate from the will of the State. However,” and Julian had to catch his breath as Garak’s face leaned inches from his across the table, “innocent is rather pushing it.”

_ Okay, Garak is obviously okay with this, he’s the one who’s put himself in this situation. _

_ But why has he put himself in this situation? _

_ Jadzia said he propositioned you. _

_ But that was years ago- what if he’s lost interest? _

_ He wouldn’t spend so much time with you if he had. _

_ But what if- _

“Doctor?”

Garak’s voice broke through his thoughts. He blinked, and noticed that their faces were still close across the table. He beckoned to come closer, and Julian’s brain shorted out.

_ What the fuck is about to happen? _

A cool hand on his jaw, turning his head. Lips drew close to his ear, and he could feel the breath hot on his skin. He panicked.

“It’s  _ slet. _ ”

Oh.

“ _ Slet? _ Oh, right. Fuck.” Julian laughed nervously, then looked down at the board between them. “Wait, when did I lose?”

Garak leaned back into his chair, an easy smile on his face again. “While you were still reeling from our conversation, no doubt. One must always pay attention during kotra - a second’s distraction leads to total loss.”

“Yeah, well. Um. You know what you’ve got to do?”

“What?”

“You’ve got to get your mum and-”

“Not this again…”

“And suck her.”

“That isn’t even a real insult.”

“Tell that to my ancestors.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven't updated in a while, I have honestly had no inspiration. Managed to finish it just before midnight which is an ACHIEVEMENT.  
> Kudos and comments give me the will to live <3


	10. Almost A Bar Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian requests Garak's help in showing up Dukat. Garak gives it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm changing the rating to T. T for Tension.
> 
> Kardasi is a bit of a mishmash of tinsnip and co’s vocab (cardassianlanguage on tumblr) and the LCARS Kardasi syntax and grammar. I probably fucked it up, but it’s not really a proper language yet so it doesn’t matter. Go with it.

-

“Garak!”

Julian had run straight from the Wardroom to Garak’s Clothiers. Garak looked up from his work - an  _ awful _ dress for a positively errant bridesmaid, as he’d told Julian the day before - and smiled.

“Doctor! How did your meeting go, my dear?”

Julian braced his open palms against the desk, chest heaving. 

“You have to help me learn Kardasi.”

“I’d be glad to. May I ask why?”

“Dukat is coming.”

Garak looked genuinely surprised.

“Dukat? But I thought he-”

“We all did. He’s back. That’s why you have to teach me tonight.”

The tailor sighed dramatically, making a show of putting his sewing tools away.

“I fear you have dragged me away from this most crucial work. Nevertheless, I shall oblige you.” 

Julian grinned. “Oh, I  _ am  _ sorry, Garak. You understand how important this is to me.” 

“And to me. What I wouldn’t give to see the look on his  _ face- _ ”

“With a bit of luck, you will.”

Garak closed up shop, and they walked into the backroom together.

-

“I fucking hate glottals! Why do they exist?”

Half an hour into Basic Kardasi for Dummies, and Julian had come to a standstill. Apparently, human vocal cords found it very difficult to pronounce most of the language. He wondered if Klingons would find it easier.

“Just because your larynx doesn’t work properly-”

“My  _ larynx _ is fine! It just wasn’t built for this sort of abuse.” Julian was, in lieu of a better word, pissed off. His throat hurt, his head hurt, and Garak’s constant sniping was getting to him.

“My dear, need I remind you that you were the one who burst into my shop demanding I teach you?”

“Don’t  _ my dear  _ me!” Julian snapped. “You’re being purposefully obtuse, and you know it. Anyway, you were the one who put the idea in my head in the first place, when you-” he stopped abruptly, looked at Garak’s sly leer, and slammed his head down on the table. “Just fuck off,” he mumbled.

Garak moved to rest his hand lightly over Julian’s. “Doctor, we don’t have to get you fluent, do we? Just enough to knock him down a peg or two. A few choice phrases would be adequate.” Julian glanced up, not lifting his head. He turned his gaze to the hand over his, cool fingers grazing his knuckles, and his stomach turned.

“Fuck off,” Julian repeated. “I’m angry at you.”  _ And you can fuck off too, _ he told his brain, which had short-circuited once it had processed that Garak was touching him. Memories of the other day came flooding back - that deceivingly gentle grip on his jaw, the instinctive fear that had pulsed through his nervous system - and he found himself unable to focus on Kardasi, on Dukat, because his mind was filled with Garak, Garak, Garak. He raised his head off the table and looked across at Garak, who had kept him in that same steady gaze the whole time. A loose strand of hair fell past his ridged ear, draped over his brow, but he didn’t move to fix it.

“Are you?” he asked, gently - as if the tense silence was precious china, easy to damage or break. Julian was enraptured by the sight before him - this dangerous,  _ dangerous  _ man, a known killer, his sharp, crystalline eyes softened in the low light of the backroom, lavender-tinted lips slightly parted, clawed hand gently caressing his own. He felt trapped, held still under that piercing gaze, studying him, staring into his soul.

“Did you look at the people you interrogated like this?” he eventually got out, voice unsteady.

“Why do you ask? Are you hiding something from me, Doctor?” Garak responded calmly. Julian’s heart was about to beat out of his chest, when Garak retracted his hand to fix his hair. He was out of breath again, flustered like the first day they’d met.

“How do you  _ do that, _ Garak? God, Cardassia lost an asset when they exiled you.” The words came out of his mouth before he could stop them, but Garak was smiling wide - a proper smile, not his fake one for his customers, no, this was crooked, with a flash of his pointed teeth, showing the gap where his first molar would have been. His eyes crinkled and he looked, for a while, very endearing.

“Why, my dear, I think that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.” Without warning, he slapped the table, sitting up straight. “Now, it’s time for you to learn some good old Cardassian vulgarities.”

-

By the time Gul Dukat ceremoniously arrived on the station, Julian was fairly confident in what he was going to say. He and Garak had planned it meticulously over a bottle of kanar the night before, giggling like a pair of naughty schoolchildren. He wasn’t required to meet Dukat at the airlock, but he hoped that they would catch him strutting through the Promenade. Every time he visited the station, he went to Quark’s to “reminisce”. Julian was counting on that.

And just on time, there he was, sipping a stout glass of springwine, postulating to a very bored-looking waiter about how  _ difficult  _ it was to find good springwine on Cardassia in these  _ troubling  _ times. Julian and Garak strolled in and tried to look inconspicuous as they sat at the neighbouring table.

“Garak, I must say- I had hoped you were dead,” came a snide voice from next to them. Garak looked over innocently at him, his genial smile firmly in place.  _ This is going to be so fucking funny, _ Julian thought.

“Why, Gul Dukat, the feeling is certainly mutual. Tell me- how does it feel, being so inelegantly removed from your most comfortable position on the Detapa Council?” Dukat’s face twisted in disgust.

“Nowhere near as embarrassing as your situation,  _ tailor.  _ At least I’m still a valued citizen of Cardassia, which is more than can be said for you.”

“Ah, but what is a Cardassian without his family, hmm? How  _ awful _ that your wife left you, and with no Bajoran comfort women at your disposal this time. A shame, really.” Julian was meant to have joined in by this point, but he was struggling to keep up with this game of verbal tennis as it was.

“Ziyal is all the family I need,” he replied shortly. Julian snorted at this.

“She  _ hates  _ you!” And she did - since Ziyal had started living aboard DS9, Julian had developed a friendship with the girl, partly due to her keeping Garak’s company. She had spoken of Dukat once, and only once, and her words were less than forgiving. “She’s probably been dreading your return to the station.”

Dukat’s brow flew up, and he hissed menacingly. “And what would  _ you  _ know about my daughter, Doctor?”

“More than you, that’s for sure. You have never once taken the time to get to know her, to actually try to be more than the pathetic excuse for a father you have been for her whole life. She despises you for what you did to her mother’s people, and for your  _ incessant posturing  _ and self-righteousness. You will never admit you were wrong, and she knows it.” Julian smirked - he was getting into this, now. His years spent with Garak had taught him to enjoy a good argument. Dukat, on the other hand, was evidently not used to being outgunned, and was left gaping. Garak nudged Julian. It was time.

“Hot kotka lox-mira vrerUj sUt’tert horvelk’I - ka gavrUn’I vin xot-prUt xevret’I - he’nu adikik lam slet’a.” Internally, he was applauding himself at his pronunciation. Externally, he was watching Dukat’s aural ridges darken to black. He rose from the table, his glass left half-empty. He stalked over to their table, fists shaking at his sides.

“ _ What  _ did you just say to me?” he seethed.

“Do you want me to repeat myself?” Julian asked, standing up to his full height. Dukat was a couple of centimetres taller than him, but he knew in a fistfight that he was stronger.  _ Thank you, Adigeon Prime, _ he thought, a thought he’d punish himself for later.

“Garak, it seems as though you’ve found yourself a feisty little hUverx’t. Detain him,” Dukat said.

“And miss this? Never,” Garak replied easily, sipping his drink.

“Scared, Dukat?” Julian asked. “You know, Odo’s probably in here right now, being a chair or a glass of ale. Or are you scared of crossing him, too?” Dukat growled and raised a fist to punch Julian, but he was too slow - Julian caught his fist easily, grinning.

“Now, now, Dukat, can’t have you setting a bad example for your little freighter crew, can we?” Julian tutted. “Starting a fight in a bar, how very juvenile of you. Looking for another demotion, perhaps?”

Dukat gave him one last venomous look, ripped his fists from Julian’s hands, and spat on the ground before stalking away, mumbling curses. The bar had fallen quiet, with everyone staring gormlessly at the scene that had just transpired.

“Alright, alright, party’s over. Pay up, drink up, or get out!” Quark yelled, holding a tray full of drinks that he plonked on a table before walking over to Julian. “What did you  _ say to him?  _ I know a bit of Kardasi, but that sounded hostile.”

“The good Doctor merely made Gul Dukat face some… unpleasant truths about himself,” Garak said from his chair.

“Well, whatever you said, I’m sure he deserved it. A round on me for the free entertainment. Two more of the same?” After a nod, Quark slapped Julian on the back amiably, then headed back to the bar. Julian sat down, feeling accomplished and very pleased with himself. He turned to Garak, only to find him staring right back, looking slightly out of it. His ridges and chufa were tinged blue, and he was slightly slumped over the table.

“Garak?”

He instantaneously composed himself, legs pressed tightly together and shoulders tense.

“ _ Very  _ well played, my dear. You really must remind me to get into arguments with you more often.”

Julian grinned impishly.  _ Payback for last night. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LMFAO GET FUCKED DUKAT YOU GREASY BINT
> 
> (Julian’s very broken Kardasi loosely translates to “you spread your legs for every cheap whore you meet, you posture endlessly just to get your disgusting dick wet, and also I fucked your mum”. I would have made up some words for some more.. colourful insults, but I am terrible at making up stuff like that. Thank you tinsnip and Vyc for your genius.)


	11. Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian is stuck in his quarters. By himself. Or is he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO ITS TIME FOR YOUR DOSE OF HORNY LIZARD SHENANIGANS ENJOY

“Sisko to Doctor Bashir. Please report to my office immediately.”

Oh, no.

Julian had been quietly dreading this moment since that afternoon in Quark’s. Of course he knew it would happen - the station’s CMO, in a bar fight? _Scandalous._ He hadn’t thought of that when he was staring across at Dukat’s incensed face. Whatever punishment he got was most definitely worth it, bar a demotion.

“Bashir here. On my way, sir.” He sighed and walked towards the nearest turbolift.

-

“You’re _grounding me!?_ ”

Sisko had to be joking.

But by the look on his face, he wasn’t.

He was sat imposingly behind his desk, arms folded and face stern, and Julian felt like a kid who’d been caught skipping school.

“You seem to be incapable of acting like an adult, so until you can prove to me that you are, I will treat you like a child.” He handed Julian a PADD. “For the next two weeks, you are confined to quarters when not on duty. Understood?”

Maybe it wasn’t worth it.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Dismissed.” Julian sped out, wanting to avoid any further wrath on Sisko’s part. As he walked through Ops towards the turbolift, he was stopped by Jadzia.

“Julian, what happened? Benjamin has been furious all morning.”

“I may have gotten into a bar fight..”

Her jaw dropped. “Seriously? With who?”

“Dukat.” Before she could open her mouth to speak again, he interjected. “In my defense, he started it. Sort of.”

“ _Sort of?_ ”

“Well, he did start it, but Garak and I did go to Quark’s with the knowledge he would be there, and-”

“Doctor Bashir,” Sisko’s voice boomed from across Ops. Jadzia smirked at him. Oops.

“Sorry, sir. I’ll be leaving now.” He ran to the turbolift. “Habitat Ring.” Sisko stared as he descended, as if to make sure he really went.

-

For the first time, Julian wished his Infirmary shifts were longer. He had been explicitly forbidden to pull extra shifts or do any overtime - the only thing more embarrassing would be if Sisko had got one of Odo’s deputies to escort him. Thankfully, he had been lenient in that respect. He was reading the book that Garak had given him after their game of kotra - Scarlet something or other. It was different to the other books he had been given - not an enigma tale or an epic. If Julian didn’t know Garak better, he’d say he’d given him a romance novel. The two main characters, Kila and Neras, had met purely by accident - Kila’s father was a Legate, while Neras was apprentice to an elderly chemist. An accident at a social function, and Neras had arrived with medicines. Kila had seen him and began visiting the chemist’s shop with increasing frequency, only to stand at the counter and argue with him. When her father found out, he was enraged that his daughter was mixing with the service class. She ran to the chemist and he agreed to help her escape, but they were all caught by the military and executed to make an example of them. It was not dissimilar to Romeo and Juliet, and he smiled, thinking of the rant Garak would go on when comparing a _classic_ Cardassian masterpiece to Shakespeare. The way his eyes burned when he was in the middle of heated debate - Julian had never seen him look that way in any other situation. He was normally so composed, even when he’d just had an attempt on his _life,_ and Julian treasured the moments when Garak allowed him in, to see his true feelings. It was special, he knew that, and he felt… honoured? _No, that’s not the right word. Is there a right word to describe how I feel?_

His train of thought was interrupted by a slight noise coming from the other side of the door. The lights were dimmed, but he thought he could see a dark figure by the door. He got out of bed as quietly as possible. _Is there anything I can use as a weapon? No? Fuck sake. Might as well see who’s come to kill me._

“Computer, lights.”

The lights went up across the room, and he saw-

“What the fuck, Garak?”

The Cardassian looked over.

“Surely you didn’t expect me to leave you all alone during your punishment, my dear Doctor,” he responded easily. “Don’t worry, they won’t find me here.”

Julian just stood there, dumbfounded, as Garak walked towards him.

“My, this shirt is far too big for you. I’m sure I could fix it up, though.” He picked up the end of the sleeve, which hung down just past Julian’s fingers, and Julian’s arm came up with it. He swallowed, trying to force some words out.

“N-no. I like it big. Comfy.” _God, Julian, you sound pathetic. Talk like an educated human, maybe?_

“I see.” He peered over at the bed. “Have you read The Scarlet Vial yet?”

Something he could talk about. Finally.

“Yes, actually - I haven’t really had much else to do. I enjoyed it.”

“Really?” Garak smiled. “I’ve been wondering what you thought of the dynamic between Legate Deran and Neras.”

“Well, obviously, his status means little to Neras, he wouldn’t have kept talking to Kila otherwise, but he’s still scared of him. Before he finds out that his daughter is in love with him, he makes sure to keep their meetings a secret.”

“That’s what you got from it- that Kila and Neras are in love?”

“Well, they are, aren’t they? It _is_ a romance novel. Why else would she run away from her father to be with him?”

“You are quite right, my dear, but is that the only pointer you had to their relationship?”

“Well, no. They met frequently, argued, and when Neras tells Kila that in another world, they would share their meals-”

“ _That’s_ how it translated? My dear, the original Kardasi is much more eloquent.”

“I thought we’d confirmed that I am hopeless at Kardasi.”

“Well, you seemed to be fluent enough to Gul Dukat,” Garak grinned, making Julian snort.

“His face- I thought he was going to have a heart attack!”

“I think the shock of being told as it stood - and in his mother tongue, nothing less- oh, my dear, you were fantastic!” 

“Yeah, and look where it’s got me - the Captain has grounded me. For two whole weeks.”

“Don’t worry, my dear. I’ll come and visit you.”

The door chimed.

Julian panicked - Garak was still holding his arm, and now that he realised it, they were very close. He could feel the heat of his breath in the air.

The door chimed again.

“Bathroom. Now,” Julian hissed to Garak, who nodded and swiftly shut himself in the bathroom. “Just a minute, I’ll be right there!” he yelled to the door, before double-checking that Garak was hidden and pressing the button on the wall. Jadzia stood in the doorway.

“Thought I’d come and check up on the naughty teenager.”

“You’re- you’re not meant to be here, I’m to have no visitors. Sisko will-”

“Benjamin won’t mind. He’s never angry at me for long, anyway.” She walked in, and Julian frantically looked around to check for any sign Garak had been in the room.

“Well, um, I’m fine in here. On my own.” Julian cursed his awkwardness.

“Don’t you… miss anyone? Not a certain tailor?” she asked. _Oh God, please please no. Change the subject, please._ Jadzia continued. “Have you told him yet?”

“Told- told him what?” _Oh, fuck._ Julian prayed that what he’d learned about Cardassians having poor hearing was true.

“Told him that you want him to fuck you within an inch of your life, obviously. What else?”

_Fuck._

“Um- I-”

“Or that you know _exactly_ what he was doing the first time you met, and that you desperately want him to make a move and just kiss you already?”

He wasn’t getting out of this one alive.

“Uh- no, Jadzia, I haven’t told him.” _Might as well have, he knows now._

“What, are you scared? Never in my life have I known you to be shy to make a move on someone.”

“Well, I guess you know that first hand,” he laughed uneasily. “Remember our first day on the station - I asked you to dinner in front of the Captain!”

“No, don’t change the subject.” _Fuck. Fuck my life._ “Why are you scared? Normally, you just turn on the charm and boom, you’re there.”

“It’s- he’s- it’s different.”

“Because he’s a Cardassian?” _Try because I’m his only friend on this station, he’s a spy that the Federation wouldn’t exactly look kindly upon me being with, and he’s so ridiculously hot that half the time I can’t even form a coherent sentence when I’m around him._

“No, it’s just- it’s just different, okay?” He sighed exasperatedly. “Look, I appreciate you coming and all, but I was- just about to go to bed, and-”

“Alright, alright. I’ll see you later.” She finally left, and Julian let out a breath that he didn’t know he’d been holding. Now to deal with the more pressing issue - Garak had most definitely heard all of that.

“You can come out, she’s gone.”

“I know.” Still, the bathroom door didn’t open. Julian’s heart rate skyrocketed.

“Garak- I just want to apologise, I had no idea she was coming, or that she’d start talking about- well, about _that-_ and-”

The door opened, and Garak was right back in his personal space. He backed up until he hit a wall, and after a quick assessment of his surroundings, he realised he had no escape. His brain shorted out, and all he could think about was that there was a _very_ horny Cardassian standing over him.

His hands grasped the wall pathetically, white-knuckled, trying to find something to hold onto before his knees buckled.

“I _do_ hope you’re not going to take back what you said, Doctor.”

“Please,” Julian said, because he couldn’t think to say anything else.

“Please what?”

“Call… call me Julian.”

Garak’s face was so close to his now, too close for his eyes to focus, so he closed them.

“Julian, my dear.” And Garak grabbed him by the jaw, like that afternoon in the Replimat, and kissed him. It was intense, bordering on forceful - the culmination of years of dancing around each other, all coming down to this. One hand left the wall and curled around Garak’s neck, finding his hair and tugging, _hard_. Garak made an unintelligible noise in the back of his throat, and kissed him harder. Julian’s other hand gripped Garak’s shoulder, holding himself up, and as his fingers dug into the ridge, Garak broke away from Julian’s lips and made a strange sort of hissing sound. Looking at his darkened face, Julian found it hard to catch his breath.

“Garak - I think -”

Lips pressed against his again, softer this time.

“I think we should make good on your word to Lieutenant Dax.” His eyes widened as he caught what he meant, and he nodded enthusiastically while dragging Garak to his bed.

-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaand fade to black. This is the closest thing to porn that I will ever write, sorry. WAY too fucking awkward, plus some of my IRL friends know my AO3 account. Yikes. (if you are reading this I am sorry)  
> (THEY FINALLY FUCKING DID IT THOUGH!!!)  
> I'll probably write another couple chapters of this and then finish it. I fucking hate writing slowburners but this one has been pretty fun.


	12. I Do Adore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A happy ending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from the song by Mindy Gledhill that I absolutely loved when I was 12. I now associate it with early-seasons Julian and his obsession with everything Garak does. Fun fact, when I got my ukulele, it was the first song I learned, closely followed by I Don't Mind by Defeater. (Banger.) (I also associate that song with Garashir.) (Literally any love song? Garashir.)

Julian woke up to strong arms wrapped around his torso. Blinking groggily, he turned around to see-

“Garak?”

So last night wasn’t a dream.

The Cardassian smiled sleepily and opened his eyes.

“Mm. My Julian.” A wave of warmth radiated through his body hearing him say those words.  _ His  _ Julian.

“I like it when you call me that.” Clawed fingers curled around his, and smooth lips brushed over his knuckles.

“Then I shall continue. What time is it?” A quick look at the chronometer-

“0530.”

“Come back to bed, then. It’s too early.” Julian sighed, sitting up in the bed.

“Alright, but only for a while - I’ve got an early shift at the Infirmary today. Anyway, you should probably get out of my quarters before someone notices you’re not in yours.”

“Who would come looking for little old me? Anyway, something tells me Dax was well aware of my presence, my dear,” Garak said, pulling Julian back down.

“Seriously?” Julian was shocked. “How did you get that idea - you weren’t even in the room!” Although it  _ was _ convenient that she had just  _ happened _ to appear while Garak was in his quarters… Was she really behind this whole thing? He wouldn’t put it past her. 

_ I am going to kill her. Or kiss her. Probably both. _

“Over the years, I have learned to deduct many things from someone’s tone of voice, their choice of words… you would do well to learn from me, Julian. Although I do adore your naivete.”

His heart swelled, and he let Garak pull him close as he sighed happily. “Being adored by you is definitely something I could get used to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't really have any more plot to add, so this is the ending! Short and sweet. I think this technically counts as a novella, do with that information what you will. I haven't written something this long in... ever, and I enjoyed it a lot!
> 
> Will they ever fix their communication issues? Will Julian ever get wined and dined by Cardassian sunset? I don't know! Because I didn't even plan this far, let alone any further! This is just random fluff that came out of my 2 brain cells at 1am last night!
> 
> (Possible next stories: Garak and Ziyal launch a plot to antagonise Gul Dukat; Modern AU Garashir where they are part of their local hardcore scene (Garak plays bass) and Julian, in his endeavours to join Garak's band, uncovers a dark secret; Neelix's many attempts to befriend Tuvok, including the time he succeeded; AU where either Voyager got back early or Jadzia didn't die, and Worf and the EMH organise an opera performance; (lowkey might write the book I described in Chapter 11 but make it garashir)
> 
> So we have options, people. I have no clue which one I want to write, most likely I will ignore all my ideas and start something completely different. I hope you enjoyed reading this terrible, gratuitous story that was only spawned out of my existential loneliness. Please check my profile to read my (albeit worse) other stories. <3


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